We Could've Had Everything
by my-chemical-romanoff
Summary: In an effort to clear their minds of Ultron, Bruce and Natasha imagine what their lives could've been... Major AoU spoilers! Drabble.


**A/N: This drabble was inspired by some AoU spoilers I found, along with Scarlett and Mark's recent interviews together. Major AoU spoilers are ahead, so proceed with caution!**

Thor isn't around. Tony is gone, too, off to who knows where. Clint is asleep in his own room, and Natasha is in the guestroom, leaving him and Steve in the living room. Bruce doesn't mind sleeping on the aged plush sofa so long as Steve doesn't mind kicking back in the adjacent armchair. From the looks of it, Steve is sleeping soundly with a wool blanket draped across his chest. Bruce glances away to eye the clock sitting on the mantle. The dying embers of the fire give off just enough light for him to see that it's well past two.

He uncomfortably shifts in his cramped sleeping space, tossing his blanket over the couch's back as he does so. How everyone else manages to sleep is beyond him. Then again, they weren't apart of creating the very thing out to kill them…The quilted fabric falls over the doctor's face, followed by a woman's stifled snort.

"I can't sleep either."

Bruce lifts the blanket away and begins to sit up, but Natasha motions for him to stay down.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks, a plush bathrobe secured around her waist.

"Two might be a tight fit," Bruce warns, offering her a smile. He sinks back into the couch, making as much space for her as he can.

Natasha rests her back against his chest as her eyes wander to the fireplace. "See? We've made it work," she hums.

Bruce uneasily smiles as he awkwardly brings his right arm over his head, his fingers barely touching Natasha's curls, while the other stays pressed to his side. His voice drops to a whisper. "Aren't you worried about getting caught?" His eyes flicker to a sleeping Steve three feet away.

"Are you in grade school, Banner?" Natasha rolls her eyes. "He knows. It's Stark who'll give us hell if he finds out."

"Oh yeah?" he raises a brow in interest.

"I'm stealing his science boyfriend away," she teases.

He softly chuckles and finds himself beginning to relax.

Natasha moves her arm across her chest and lightly taps Bruce's neck.

The gesture puzzles him and he observes as her slender finger taps her shoulder. It's then that he readjusts his left arm, allowing for his hand to touch her. Natasha's fingers soon find his and they intertwine. Her hand is so small compared to his. If she didn't make her living as a trained assassin, he would've assumed those hands were made of glass. Bruce can feel the rise and fall of Natasha's back as she breathes. To him, that's the greatest feeling in the world: knowing that she's alive.

But he could very well be the one to take that life away…

"We should run away once this mess is over," Natasha quietly announces.

Her words instantly snap him out of his daze. "'Run away?'" he parrots.

"Just you and me."

She's been pushing this "running away" idea on him more and more over the past few days. The running away isn't the part that's bothering him. It's being with her that worries him.

"Bruce…"

He could kill her.

"Still don't trust me?" she mutters.

He feels her fingers slipping away, so he tightens his grip. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" she evenly asks.

"You know what it is," he warns in a strict tone.

"And I don't care."

Leave it to the Black Widow to not care about having a constant threat looming over her.

"Have you ever thought about it?" she wonders, eyes glued to the flames in the hearth.

"Of course I have," he admits, breathing in the vanilla scent of her hair. "But we've got bigger things to-"

"We can get married. How would you propose?"

"'Married?'" He nearly scoffs out the word. She isn't acting like herself and it's worrying him more than the Ultron threat.

"Yeah," she replies as if the abrupt mention of marriage is an everyday thing. "How would you propose?"

It's then that Bruce wonders if she's doing this on purpose. She knows that he's been harboring guilt for days. She's seen him leave the dinner table without touching his food after the group has fallen silent from his AI being mentioned. Now she knows he can't sleep at night. Natasha's worrying. He can't have that happen. She doesn't need the added pressure. "Well," he begins. "I… Once this is over, we'll book a flight to Calcutta."

"Exotic," she muses. Her thumb starts massaging the backs of his fingers.

"But," he adds, suddenly finding himself engaged in the fantasy, "before we left, I bought a ring."

"Oh, yeah?"

"And I keep it safe in my pocket."

"They'll force you to empty your pockets in airport security," Natasha interrupts. "I'll see it."

Her commentary makes him chuckle as he lets his free hand toy with her curls. "I'll send you to get us coffee before I'm checked."

"Good plan," Natasha decides. "And after we land? What will you do?"

"I can show you around, and-"

"I've been there. Not much of a tourist attraction."

"But it's where I met you," he grins. "And I'll find the hut you dragged me to, and I'll get down on one knee…" Her laughter forces him to wrinkle his nose.

"This is as corny as I thought it would be."

"Corny good, right?" he smiles.

"Corny bad," she matter-of-factly corrects. "But that's how I imagine it."

"Well," he smirks, "since you can read me so well, why don't you tell me what happens next?" he playfully challenges.

"_Well,_" Natasha nudges her back against his chest. "After a proposal that you thought would have me in tears, I'll say 'yes,' and then throw my arms around you and kiss you."

"And then?"

"I don't plan on waiting for our wedding night. I'll take you right where you stand," she slyly hints.

"Alright," he agrees. "We can do that there… But then I want to marry you in that exact spot."

Natasha rolls her eyes and laughs quietly. "Helicarrier wedding," she wagers. "We'll fly _over _that exact spot. Nick will be the Minister."'

"And you said I'm corny," he teases.

"It's perfectly realistic." She rolls around so she can meet Bruce's gaze. "And I want Barton as my maid of honor. He'll wear the dress and everything."

He smiles widely and lets his fingers stroke her cheek. "How long do we wait before we have kids?"

A pained look fills Natasha's eyes and she quickly forces herself to look away. "I didn't think that far," she murmurs.

"Neither have I," he breathes. Her fingers cling to the front of his shirt before she rolls back around. "Natasha, I'm sorry," he pleads, unaware he struck a nerve. _What if she isn't just imagining their marriage?_ He didn't know… "How about we get Tony in a dress at our wedding? Let's get _all _the guys in dresses!" he adds, accidentally raising his voice as he attempts to build up his excitement.

There's a pause. "One kid."

Bruce's smile falls and he wonders if she's forcing this on herself for his sake.

"A daughter," she continues.

He can sense a smile in her voice as her hand reaches for his. "I can see three kids."

"I'm not putting my body through three," she lightheartedly drawls. "Two's my final offer. Boy and girl."

"Deal." He agrees with a nod. "They can have red hair like you." _Is that pushing it?_

"That's not genetically possible. You should know that," she sarcastically quips.

"But that's what I imagine," he grins, draping an arm over her middle.

"That's what you imagine…" Her mind lingers on the key word, "imagine." That's all it ever will be for them-an imaginary scenario. "Maybe in some past life we had it all," Natasha reflects. "Everything we wanted…"

"Natasha…" He hears her sharply inhale, then exhale. "Natasha," he proceeds. "Once this is over, let's run away."

She knows that he's only doing this to cheer her up, so she agrees to play along with him.

He pulls her body closer to his. "Stark's got a place in Malibu. How about we have our first time there?"

A genuine smile forms across her lips. "He'll be pissed if he finds out." She shifts in his embrace to bury her face in Bruce's chest. "That's an offer I'm taking you up on, big guy."

Bruce presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"But if you propose to me there, I'll say no," she promises.

"Deal," he agrees.


End file.
